Chapter 37: Silly One

Hiding behind a tree, Qin Tian observed the effects of the poison on the Primal Panda.

Although he had considered the dosage, he had no idea what kind of impact the toxin on the arrowhead would actually have on the Primal Panda.

One thing was certain: given the sheer size of the Primal Panda, the amount of poison on the arrowhead was not enough to threaten its life.

The toxin from the Blue Poison Dart Frog was indeed potent. After watching for half an hour, the Primal Panda was still lying there, its body convulsing and unable to move.

However, since Qin Tian had disappeared from sight, the Primal Panda stopped roaring and gradually calmed down.

In this way, another hour passed, and the Primal Panda was still lying there, its limbs no longer twitching.

Two hours later, the Primal Panda began to struggle.

Three hours later, the Primal Panda started to crawl, inching its way toward The Cave.

After observing for so long, Qin Tian was pretty sure that this amount of toxin was just enough to make the Primal Panda lose its mobility, but not enough to endanger its life.

By this time, it was already past noon. Qin Tian stopped watching and quietly left.

***

The next morning, Qin Tian left the camp with three Cao Fish.

He first went to the Bamboo Forest to gather some fresh bamboo shoots, then hurried toward the grassland.

After a night, he didn’t know if the toxin was still effective, but preparing things ahead of time was never wrong.

This time, Qin Tian didn’t have to worry about whether the Primal Panda was inside The Cave or not. As soon as he approached the grassland, he saw the Primal Panda snoring at the entrance.

Judging from the traces on the grass, it wasn’t hard to guess that after Qin Tian left yesterday, the Primal Panda spent a long time crawling to the entrance, and, exhausted, fell asleep right there—sleeping all the way till noon.

Seeing this, Qin Tian couldn’t help but laugh and cry. Couldn’t it have crawled just a little further? At least get inside The Cave. Just lying at the entrance—what was that about?

Qin Tian understood now: modern pandas being so silly wasn’t a result of evolution at all, but something inherited from their ancestors. It was purely genetic.

He paid it no mind. Qin Tian simply sat down on the grass, used a dagger to cut the bamboo shoots into pieces, stuffed them into the belly of the fish, then tossed them toward the Primal Panda, shouting, “Wake up and eat!”

As his words fell, the fish happened to hit the Primal Panda.

Hearing Qin Tian’s voice, the Primal Panda immediately woke up in shock.

At the first sight of Qin Tian, the Primal Panda let out a low warning growl, but did nothing else. It seemed to know it could barely move, only hoping to scare Qin Tian off.

“Looks like it still hasn’t recovered,” Qin Tian guessed. Normally, the moment the Primal Panda saw him, it would charge without hesitation. Now, it just lay there, unmoving.

Not wanting to disturb the Primal Panda’s meal, Qin Tian slipped into the forest and waited quietly.

With Qin Tian gone, the Primal Panda gradually calmed down and turned its attention to the Cao Fish beside it.

Starving after a day without food, the Primal Panda couldn’t hold back when it saw the Cao Fish. After sniffing it, it opened its mouth wide and started chewing. Clearly, it hadn’t noticed anything different about the fish.

The fish was only three or four fingers long—gone in two bites. When it was still unsatisfied, another Cao Fish landed on its body.

Qin Tian’s voice sounded again, “Time to eat!”

A true glutton, the Primal Panda didn’t care if Qin Tian was nearby. It picked up the fish and tossed it into its mouth, eating right in front of The Cave.

***

Having thrown out the Cao Fish, Qin Tian started to feel conflicted.

He realized he’d forgotten something important—naming the Primal Panda.

Tuan Tuan, Yuan Yuan… Huan Huan… Following the pattern of panda names nowadays, Qin Tian wracked his brains, but after a long time, he still couldn’t come up with anything suitable.

If Ye Lin saw Qin Tian like this, she probably wouldn’t understand why he had to give the Primal Panda a name. But anyone who’s kept a pet would get it.

Naming a pet isn’t a trivial matter. Even if a pet can’t understand the meaning of the name, if you call it enough times, it will start to respond, maybe even realize it’s their name.

Both times he fed it, Qin Tian intentionally called out, hoping to make the Primal Panda familiar with his voice. This, in turn, would help it let down its guard, and close the distance between them.

But just calling “Time to eat” all the time wasn’t going to work. It would be better to have a proper name.

Qin Tian was definitely particular about names. If he didn’t care, he could just pick something random, like Little Black, Little White, or Big Flower. But he insisted on finding the right one, which gave him a headache.

Just as he was thinking, a dull thud came from the direction of The Cave. Qin Tian looked up and saw the Primal Panda lying on its back, legs splayed out. Who knew how it had fallen over?

It struggled to get up, using a lot of effort to roll over. The sight was honestly a bit comical.

“Truly Han Pi.” Qin Tian was amused, and those casual words ended up solving the problem of the Primal Panda’s name.

“Han Pi! Yes, that’s it! You’ll be called Han Pi!” The more he said it, the more it rolled off the tongue. It just seemed perfect for the Primal Panda.

***

With the name decided, Qin Tian continued feeding Han Pi, but this time he stuffed even more bamboo shoots into the belly of the Cao Fish, until the fish’s stomach was bulging.

Han Pi finally tasted something different. After chewing for a bit, it just sat there in a daze—clearly because of the flavor of the bamboo shoots.

At this moment, Qin Tian’s heart was in his throat. If Han Pi could accept the taste of bamboo shoots, it would be a good start.

Under Qin Tian’s watchful gaze, Han Pi tried chewing again and finally swallowed the whole fish.

Qin Tian breathed a sigh of relief and quietly left.

Three Cao Fish probably wouldn’t even fill Han Pi’s stomach, and Qin Tian knew this. But as the saying goes, “A hungry man isn’t picky.”

Only by keeping Han Pi hungry would it be willing to swallow the bamboo-stuffed fish, and gradually accept the taste of bamboo shoots.

From then on, Qin Tian devoted his time to this task. At first, Han Pi was a bit resistant to the bamboo-filled fish, but gradually came to enjoy it.

This process took Qin Tian a week. In that week, he also figured out how long the toxin’s effects lasted on Han Pi.

Four days per cycle—from the day Han Pi was poisoned, after four days it could walk normally. So, every four days, Qin Tian would shoot another arrow to make sure Han Pi stayed obediently in The Cave.

***

On the morning of the eighth day, as usual, Qin Tian had already hidden in the woods near the grassland.

After preparing everything, Qin Tian called toward The Cave, “Han Pi!”

By now, Han Pi had gotten used to Qin Tian’s voice. Not long after he called, Han Pi rushed out of The Cave, looking around.

In its mind, whenever this voice sounded, food would appear.

“Hope you don’t mind this,” Qin Tian said, glancing at Han Pi, then at what he was holding.

Today, instead of bringing bamboo-shoot fish, Qin Tian had brought bamboo shoots tied with fish meat. Since Han Pi was now familiar with the taste of bamboo shoots, it was time to move to the next stage.

Not knowing what the result would be, Qin Tian tossed the bamboo shoots. Han Pi, quite skillfully, reached out to catch them, and, without thinking, stuffed them straight into its mouth.

Qin Tian grew anxious.

If the bamboo-shoot fish was half fish, half bamboo shoots, then today’s “fish-bamboo” was forty percent fish and sixty percent bamboo. The flavor would be very different.

Fortunately, Han Pi swallowed the fish-bamboo, and from its look, it clearly didn’t find anything strange.

Qin Tian was excited, secretly thinking, “If things go smoothly, in four days, the ratio can be changed to thirty percent fish and seventy percent bamboo.”

With that in mind, Qin Tian had a new idea.

He took out his Recurve Bow. While Han Pi was eating, Qin Tian shot an arrow at its leg. Han Pi didn’t even react.

But it wasn’t that Han Pi was used to it—Qin Tian had mastered his archery skills, making sure the arrow barely pierced Han Pi’s fur and delivered the toxin without causing too much pain.

Besides that, Qin Tian had adjusted the amount of toxin on the arrow. After Han Pi was hit, it slowly lay down, but didn’t have the same convulsions as the first time.

Watching Han Pi finish the fish-bamboo, Qin Tian took a deep breath and walked out of the forest.

Almost at the same time, as soon as Qin Tian stepped out, Han Pi turned and looked at him, instantly becoming alert, hissing through its mouth.

This was within expectations. Qin Tian immediately threw the fish-bamboo in his hand, “Han Pi!”

Upon hearing the name, Han Pi clearly paused for a moment. But after a second, it continued hissing, not even glancing at the fish-bamboo lying to the side.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you!” Qin Tian called out, regardless of whether Han Pi could understand. He found a shady spot on the grass and sat down, trying to show he meant no harm.

One man and one bear stared each other down from a distance, and for a moment, it felt like even the food around them was frozen in time.

They stayed like this for who knows how long, before Han Pi’s hissing gradually subsided. Still wary of Qin Tian, it had no interest in eating the fish-bamboo.

“Han Pi, it’s time to eat!” Seeing this, Qin Tian threw out the rest of the fish-bamboo and turned to leave.

The reason Qin Tian stepped out of the forest was because he wanted Han Pi to accept his presence, to let Han Pi know that he was the one who had been providing food all this time.

But everything must proceed step by step. Qin Tian knew it was impossible for Han Pi to accept him in a single day. After all, it would take time.